


safety here

by jswoon2



Series: he stole her [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkward Flirting, But not specified - Freeform, F/M, Female Jon Snow, Male Ygritte, Oral Sex, Their canon ages are underaged, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-08-08 01:09:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7737214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jswoon2/pseuds/jswoon2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Perhaps you should arm yourself.” Ygritte suggests. Today marks the second day Joanna had been attacked by Orell in a row. She had taken a good swing at the wildling and nearly went for his bird too before Ygritte intervened. It’s been nearly a month since he’s taken her. “I gave you a dagger. What happened to that?”</p><p>"You took it away after I tried to stab you."</p><p>Ygritte frowns, trying to remember. “Ah, yes."</p>
            </blockquote>





	safety here

**Author's Note:**

> Somehow this almost became a 5k fic. 
> 
> Only proofread, not beta'd. If there are any glaring mistakes, please let me know.

“Perhaps you should arm yourself.” Ygritte suggests. Today marks the second day Joanna had been attacked by Orell in a row. She had taken a good swing at the wildling and nearly went for his bird too before Ygritte intervened. It’s been nearly a month since he’s taken her. “I gave you a dagger. What happened to that?”

Joanna draws the furs closer more tightly around her body, trying to find warmth. She had heard stories about how cold it is beyond the Wall. She hadn’t thought imagined it to be like this. Always beyond freezing, always snowing. There’s no end in sight to how much white there is. The snow even sticks to her clothes. She’s never without the cold here.

“You took it away after I tried to stab you.”

Ygritte frowns, trying to remember. “Ah, yes. Well, you said you were cold so I thought I could warm my little lady up with a bit of kissing. Perhaps a bit of fucking later. I didn’t think you’d hold a knife to my cock. You took me by surprise.” Blowing into his hands, he rubs them together for warmth. Even though she had nearly stabbed him twice, he had given her his gloves the week before. He hasn’t been able to get a new pair.

“You kidnapped me,” she accuses.

The wildling shrugs.

“You kidnapped me and then you tried to rape me.” Joanna seethes. If she thought she was fast enough, she’d try to steal the ice pick sticking out of his furs. He’d have her on her back as soon as she tried.

Ygritte rolls his eyes, takes a stick off the ground and throws it into the dwindling fire. “To be fair, I stopped.”

“Only when I tried to stab you with your knife.”

“I like that in a woman.” Ygritte admits, only aggravating Joanna further. She hates him so far, and he doesn’t blame her, but he knows she’ll come around. He thought she’d adapt quicker though. She had seemed so sad, so out of place, at that great table that he imagined he may have even gotten a word of thanks for taking her away from there.

The kneeler looks at him with disbelief. “You like a woman who tries to stab you?” Ygritte laughs, sitting on the log beside her. He puts his arm around her shoulders and she doesn’t even try to remove it. “It really is true. Wildlings are just as primitive as they say.”

“You best not let the wrong person hear that. There’s nothing wild about us at all. We’re just free is all.” Ygritte digs his foot into the snow with a sigh. With that he stands. “Go inside the tent. Mance is moving camp tomorrow.” Patting his coat down, he locates a small knife and hands it to her. “If Orell comes after you again, kick him in the knees. He won’t expect it.”

Joanna smiles when he can’t see, but he feels it. That little bit of warmth in such a cold place.

 

* * *

 

Moving camp is a long process of packing up. Pregnant women stubbornly wish to hold their own, prodding their partners with pointed spears to get them to relent. Even with snow shoes they move with a slow but steady pace. The mammoths – gods, Joanna can’t believe mammoths are real – can take a bit of weight, though according to Orell, they can be temperamental creatures.

At the front of the group, Mance leads. Only he and a few of his closest followers know exactly where they plan on going. Around camp there has been talk of a horn and the Wall. Joanna has tried to eavesdrop but the wildlings quickly notice and shuffle off in the show to gossip elsewhere. They’re wary of the girl from the other side of the Wall.

They call her a spy. Though that would imply she came her willingly. She showed up on camp tossed over Ygritte’s shoulder, bound and poorly gagged. Not walking on her own two feet.

Trudging through the snow wastes much of their energy and within days, their food is running low. Mance stops camp and men instantly start to build up their tents again. High in the sky, the sun hides behind the clouds.

A man who insists on calling himself Lord of Bones announces that there will be a hunt.

In wildling camps, men and women go on hunts together. It’s a foreign concept to Joanna. She knows that had her father asked her to, she could’ve gone hunting with the men. She could’ve easily kept her own. Perhaps she could’ve killed a hare and brought it back for all her siblings to see. Arya would’ve been so jealous. Lady Catelyn more often than not has a close eye on her trueborn daughter to make sure she’s kept in line. So she becomes the proper lady that Joanna cannot be.

But Joanna was never asked so she never went.

Going hunting beside the men an exhilarating prospect. She nearly thinks she must refuse Ygritte’s offer, weaponless aside from a dull knife, but he takes her hand and slides a dagger carved from a bone into her palm. The dagger is light, the blade sharp. He offers a small smile, his lips cracking from the cold.

“My little lady can’t go hunting without something proper to hunt with.” He teases her, taking her by the hip to pull her in once he sees she won’t fight him. “It’s nice, yes?”

Turning the dagger in her hands, she continues to test the weight of it, switching between holding it in both hands. It feels nice, like it was made for her.

“Yes,” agrees Joanna, dragging her finger along the blade lightly. She feels a bit of warmth spread through her chest but she tells herself that it’s merely because Ygritte is holding her. It has nothing to do with his kindness.

Alternating between teasing and the constant sexual comments, Ygritte has been careful to not touch her again. He’s put an arm around her briefly once or twice, even woke her up one morning by looming over her like he was going to kiss her. But other than that, he’s been what her father would’ve called a perfect gentlemen. Throughout the day, he’ll mock the customs Joanna has grown up with, saying they mean nothing here beyond the Wall and just as she starts contemplating stabbing him in his sleep, he’ll bring her something. A trinket or another set of furs to keep her warm.

Joanna almost thinks he’s courting her, though in a wildling way. A lord would never be so rude to a lady during courtship. It wouldn’t be proper but then again Rodrik Cassel said there was nothing proper about wildlings.

“I believe usually at this point, my little lady would owe me a kiss for my troubles.” Ygritte snaps her out of her thoughts by sliding his hand from her hip to the small of her back to pull her until they’re chest to chest. She looks at him and he taps his cheek expectantly.

“And who taught you to believe that?” she asks, humoring him.

“Mance.” Ygritte responds, offering no other explanation. He taps his cheek again, leaning down a bit and turning his face so all she has to do is lean forward a bit for them to touch.

Biting the inside of her cheek, Joanna looks around her where the wildlings are all getting ready for their hunt. None of them are looking at her or Ygritte. As she looks back at the redheaded wildling, she thinks back to her life in Winterfell. A young lord never so much gave her a second glance but here she has a man looking at her only despite her declining most of his advances.

She closes her eyes and leans in to kiss him. She expects the rough prickly feeling of his red beard, maybe the sharpness of his cheekbone. Instead, Joanna feels a quick press of chapped lips and a bit of snow from the wildling’s beard brush her.

Triumphant, Ygritte releases her, bending to pick up his pack. “We must be on our way, m’lady,” he mocks happily. Flushing with embarrassment, she balls her fist, reeling her arm back for a punch but he steps back into her space, crowding her. Holding her wrist, he slips his thumb into her fist, relaxing her fingers. “Save your energy for the hunt.”

He leaves her. Joanna watches after him, amazed. Ygritte drags his feet through the snow over to Mance’s sister, speaks quickly to her. Then together, they walk off toward the group being sent to hunt. Briefly, Val looks over her shoulder at Joanna, cocks her head to the side before turning around.

When Joanna joins them, they don’t mention the kiss. She struggles to walk through the snow as fast as the wildlings. Tired, she keeps going in fear of them leaving her behind. Even as she keeps to the back of the pack, routinely Val or Ygritte will find some way to lag behind. Whether it’s pointing up to point out how pretty the sky is, or complain about how far from camp they’re going, they do it.

Disliking the chatter, Rattleshirt threatens to club Val on the head – Mance’s sister or not, she’s annoying him – but she only dares him to try and lay a hand on her. Face a bit red, Rattleshirt sputters as everyone watches.

From behind everyone else, even Joanna can’t help the amused look on her face. It makes her forget her own embarrassment.

 

* * *

 

 

Joanna successfully shoots a snow fox. The thing had been quick, dodging two or three spears before Joanna threw the dagger in the animal’s direction. It wasn’t a quick kill. She had missed any vital organs. Stubbornly, the fox tried to crawl away even as its leg stumbled through the snow, blood trailing behind it. Rattleshirt took the poor thing by the scruff of the neck and handed it to Joanna, face scrunched in disgust.

He offers her no words of congratulations.

“Not bad.” Ygritte compliments, taking the fox to measure the size of her kill. “Though, I didn’t take you for the merciless type.”

She’s too proud of herself to argue with him. She would have made the kill quick had she been given the chance.

In spite of the cold, Joanna still finds herself with drops of sweat on her forehead by the end of the hunt. They stop before the sun goes down to set up camp while it’s still light out. There isn’t much to do. No tents are set up for fear of being spotted by other wildlings, or worse, the Night’s Watch. Mance hadn’t wanted Rattleshirt to lead the group toward the Wall but it was more likely to find fresh food closer to where it’s warmer.

Val says the Lord of Bones is not afraid of any Ranger of the Night’s Watch. Plus, he had been right.

Told they can’t light a fire, Joanna is left to huddling on a cold rock for warmth. She had been careful to stay away from getting wet from the snow. The last thing she wants is to get a cold where a maester can’t heal her.

“Try not to look so glum. Someone might think you don’t want to be here.” Ygritte jokes as he sits down next to her.

Pursing her lips, she rolls her eyes. “Oh no, we wouldn’t want that at all.”

“I had something fun to surprise you with, but I guess now I’ll just show Val.” He huffs at her. Joanna just stares at the small cloud left from his breath in the air. “You really don’t want to know? You miss being warm, don’t you? I can promise you’ll like it.”

“Will you tell me what the surprise is?” she asks, hopeful.

Ygritte laughs. “Well that would ruin the surprise, little lady. Come.” He stands, offering his hand. His glove is worn at the finger tips, holes peeking through at the nails. Joanna wrings her hands together, feeling the thick leather and concedes. She slides her hand into his, feeling stark temperature difference and shudders.

He leads her away from their small campsite. Vaguely, Joanna notices a pair of men snickering about Ygritte bedding her at last and she nearly stops in her tracks. Ygritte tugs gently, continuing to whisk her away. Val seems to be unconcerned. Joanna trusts Val. Somewhat. Val is a strong woman, but understanding.

It appears, to Joanna, wherever Ygritte is taking her, he must have told Val first if the woman’s slight smirk is any indication.

They reach what looks to be a small cave hidden by the snow when Joanna tries to slip her hand away again.

“If I spoil the surprise, will you stay?” He says, seriously. Joanna looks at him, wondering if this is all a ploy just to get her out of her clothes, but he looks her straight in the eye as he says it. Ygritte looks back, giving her the same expression he had when he took her. There’s still a playful glint in his eye but nothing tells Joanna he has other plans.

“Can I leave if I don’t like it? The surprise, that is.”

He frowns. “Yes.”

“What is it?” she slips her hand out from his, lets it fall to her side.

“A hot spring.” Ygritte drags his heels through the snow as he slowly make his way to the cave. “Mance and I found it on our way to Winterfell the first time around. Thought we’d take shelter in there for a night and found a hot spring inside. So,” he spreads his arm out in a fancy presentation, “are you interested?”

Briefly, Joanna thinks of the hot springs in Winterfell. She had loved the hot springs there. The water always felt so nice on her skin. It soothed her muscles after a day of swords practice. The atmosphere was perfect. Sometimes she would go down to the hot springs just to get away from everybody else.

Trying to hide her smile, she brushes past him, walking faster than she had the whole day. Standing at the mouth of the cave, she can feel the warmth hit her cheeks. The snow on the bottoms of her shoes seems to melt instantly as she steps inside. She hears Ygritte chuckle, following her. Inside the cave, a large pool of water sits waiting for them.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Joanna nods.

It’s a slippery way down to the pool. The jagged rocks and her damp shoes make it hard for her to navigate smoothly. She’s not afraid of falling though. Ygritte always stays one step behind, a hand just barely touching her back to steady her. Suddenly she feels like she’s back at Winterfell, running to the hot springs. Always determined to get there first, she’d leave all her siblings behind if need be.

She reaches the bottom first. They always let her. Ygritte lets her.

“I have to admit, this is pretty amazing.” Joanna says. Turning, her face gets a light shade of pink and it’s not because of the warmth from the hot springs. “What’re you doing?”

Ygritte pauses, his pants around his ankles. “We can’t go all this way without going for a little dip.” He smirks at Joanna’s discomfort. He strips the rest of his heavy clothes as Joanna watches, her mouth opening and closing. “Coming?”

Joanna clears her throat, averting her gaze. She catches a brief glimpse of his chest before turning away. His bare skin is just as white as she expected it would’ve been. She expects him to tease her a bit like usual, but he only takes two long strides past her and jumps into the water. Ygritte stands in the shallow end when he comes back up, rubbing his neck as he moans contentedly.

“Coming in, m’lady?” he asks.

Lips pressed into a firm line, she contemplates while removing her gloves. “Naked?” He shrugs.

The water just comes up to the man’s waist and she tries not to let her gaze wander too much. Clothed, he’s already looking her up and down. She has to admit to herself that he is good looking. Not as well-groomed as a lord but he has a smile easy that’s easy on the eyes and defined muscles Robb struggled to achieve. A few scars mar his body but they’re faint.

“Fine.” Joanna reaches down to untie her boots. “Just – just look the other way.”

“Think I won’t like what I see?” he asks. Wading through the water, he folds his arms on the edge of the water, looking up at her.

She can tell he’s challenging her in his own way. It isn’t even that she’s uncomfortable with her body. She know she doesn’t have the most feminine figure. Still a bit small chested and rectangular shaped. Dresses always just hung on her body and the thick furs Mance gave her does nothing to accentuate her figure either. She is, however, uncomfortable at the way Ygritte is sizing her up. He’s having fun wading in the water, observing her, and all she wishes is for a brief moment where he would avert his eyes so she could strip.

For a second, she thinks about turning around and taking her clothes off but she takes a deep breath and takes her shirt off where she stands instead. She doesn’t look Ygritte. Joanna focuses on the task at hand. She expects the cold to make goose pimples form on her skin, instead she’s pleasantly warm. The moisture in the air, usually something that would make her feel sticky and hot, feels nice.

Ygritte is looking at her face when she finally looks back at him again.

“Come in. But be careful. Don’t cut your feet.” He warns, offering out his arms to catch her.

She jumps.

Held at the waist, her toes just hit the bottom. She can feel how the ground is a bit jagged. Her heel touches an uneven piece but her toes land on a flat slab which she stands on. They’re close enough to kiss when she realizes her hands are holding his biceps. Joanna ducks her head, quickly drawing her hands away. But not before ghosting the tips of her fingers down his chest.

Curious, Ygritte raises a brow. Before he can say a word, she pulls him close, leaning on her toes and kisses him.

This time, their kiss is anything but chaste. He goes as close as she pulls him in. Once their chests touch, she feels his hands start to move, his fingertips dancing up her sides. Joanna breaks off with a gasp, his lips moving from her lips to her jaw and neck in seconds. He doesn’t mark her. He only peppers light kisses, allowing her to get used to the feel until she tips his head back up for another kiss.

Distantly, she becomes conscious of his cock hardening against her, but she ignores it. She focuses on the way his lips feel on hers and his hands. As he presses harder against her, she feels the edge of the pool scrape against her back.

His pupils are dilated, lips kiss swollen when they finally part. Somehow her fingers have managed to find their way into his mess of hair. Ygritte licks his lips, smirking.

“That’s how little ladies kiss, hm?” he hums pleasantly. He drags his hand up her chest, around the curve of her breast as he tucks his face into the crook of her neck. Kisses her neck some more, with a bit of teeth and a soothing tongue.

Joanna barely resists touching her tingling lips. “Not a lady.”

She feels a smile against her shoulder. “No, of course not.” He drags his hand through the water back to her breast, cupping it lightly in his hand. “No proper lady kisses like that.”

 

* * *

 

It doesn’t take a lot of convincing for Joanna to give in and just sleep in the safety of the cave. They dress in their lightest layer and sleep near the edge of the water, spooned together. Ygritte curls around Joanna’s body, his hand splayed possessively – triumphantly across her stomach – as they sleep. Their coats serve as a pillow and it’s quite possibly the best sleep Joanna has gotten since she had been taken from Winterfell.

She’s sore but satisfied when she wakes up. Up before Ygritte, she slips out of his hold and pads around the cave to stretch. Her shoulders and neck crack. The constant sound of water is so pleasant that she almost thinks she could go back to sleep.

A bit more confident, she strips off her pants and her shirt to slip back into the water. Before, they had stayed in the water for so long just kissing and feeling each other’s bodies that their skin pruned. Even then, Joanna wasn’t sure if she was ready to get out.

She swims for a bit in the center of the pool. Even at the deepest part, she can still stand with her feet planted on the ground. The water reaches her shoulders, but she can still enjoy swimming and walking around all while knowing where the bottom of the pool is.

Dragging her pair of pants to the edge, she pulls herself out of the water. Each time she cups her hands into the water, she brings it up to her body. Wanting the feel of the wet glide of water but not wanting to be submerged. Smiling to herself, she kicks her feet in the water. She thinks to her siblings and how much they’d love a little spot like this. They could hide away from their duties – all the lessons – and relax in a place like this.

Joanna nearly jumps when a hand touches her back.

“Only me,” Ygritte says. He slides next to her, sticking his feet into the water. She notices he’s down to his underwear. Calmed, she gives a small chuckle. “I had a good dream last night. Want to know what it was?”

She takes his hand and holds it. Intertwines their fingers and looks at the way their hands look together. “Sure.”

“You and I never leave this cave.” He slips into the water, stepping between her legs. Running his wet hands up her thighs, he looks at her earnestly. “Doesn’t that sound good? We could just stay here. Forget about Mance and his plans. We could just stay here where it’s safe and warm.”

Joanna can picture it. She wouldn’t have to deal with the wildlings staring at her. Orell couldn’t bother her. They wouldn’t have to constantly move camp for a cause she doesn’t even believe in. It sounds nice. But then she pauses. If she stays here, a place that even a wildling stumbled upon on accident, there would be no chance that her uncle could ever come to save her.

She likes Ygritte. She likes how he doesn’t treat her based on her bastardy. He may have taken her away, but here she doesn’t have to do a thing. No more lessons, no more glares from Catelyn. No sibling rivalry. There’s no lord she has to prepare to marry or titles to bare. He kisses and courts her in a way that amazes her. She can’t predict him and she still can’t keep but check if he’s looking at her or not even for the littlest things.

She likes him but she misses her home. Winterfell.

“We can’t.” She shakes her head, fitting her hand atop of his, sad. “I can’t.”

Undeterred, he steps as close to Joanna as he can. “Could I convince you?”

“I don’t know.” Joanna closes her eyes, tries to think of an excuse to leave. She can’t just tell him she wants to go home. Not after he thinks she finally won her over. “We have people waiting for us.”

“Forget about them. Just think about us,” he pleads. Slowly, he presses kisses into her skin. He works down her neck and chest. A shiver passes over her body. “We could stay here. Together.”

His hands feel rough on her skin. He brings her nipple to his mouth, giving it a slow teasing lick. Then he seals his lips around the bud and sucks. Naturally, Joanna arches her back, hand coming up to cup the back of his head. When he feels her harden in his mouth, he releases her for the briefest of moments. He spreads her legs, sinks into the water, and buries his face between her thighs.

A sudden gasp escapes her lips. She feels his tongue licking around her, into her. Her thighs quiver but he holds her steady. Ygritte pulls away for a moment to drag his finger between her wet lips, parting the sensitive folds. Then he’s back, teasing her with his tongue. Joanna tries to close her legs, her back falling against the damp ground.

He reaches and grasps her breasts in his large hands, lifting her legs onto his shoulders.

“Wai–” she gasps out. She clenches around his tongue, hips moving against his face without permission. “Y-Ygritte. Wait.”

Lips more chapped before, Ygritte straightens slightly, nipping at the meat of her thighs. He hums against the flesh, waiting as told. “Yes?”

Attempting to catch her breath, she raises herself on her elbows. She can barely say a coherent sentence before he rubs against her clit with his thumb. Joanna leans toward the touch again.

“Yes?” he repeats. “You wanted me to wait.”

Screwing her eyes shut, she lays back down, curving her leg until her foot is pulling Ygritte back toward her. “Fuck. More.”

Ygritte makes her come on his tongue, fingers coaxing her to orgasm.

Pulling himself out of the water, he reclines next to her. Joanna hooks a leg over his body and rolls on top of him. She feels him hard against her side through is wet underwear.

“We should leave soon.” She says as he frowns, looking away. Joanna draws him back in, kissing the corner of his lips. “Let me convince you.”

Sitting on top of him, she reaches into his shorts, wrapping her hand around his hard length. She’s never made a man come before but she’s confident that she could do it. And even if she needs help, he’ll guide her through it if she really needs it. Ygritte seems willing to let her too.

Slowly, she slides her hand up and down his girth. He groans, his hands gripping her thighs tighten. She thinks she hears the man growl beneath his breath and pauses. Ygritte, breathing heavily, looks up at her confused.

“What is that?” Joanna asks, slipping off his lap into the water.

Ygritte sits up, arm shooting out as if to block Joanna from the creature looming at the entrance of the cave. He squints. “There are no direwolves out here.” He watches the animal stalk forward, teeth bared. “That should be impossible.”

From afar, the direwolf lets out another low growl. It looks at her, its red eyes boring into her. Ygritte goes to reach for his knife but she stops him. The direwolf’s one ear falls flat against its big head. From where it stands, it sniffs the ground and flops down.

It looks at her with its red eyes and she looks back.


End file.
